The General
by Neleothesze
Summary: (Complete) She accepts the request like she always does, with a nod and a smile, promising to do her best to arrive there in time. It's a week long journey to Hangman's Alley if the weather holds. It almost never does. In this instance, it suits her well.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fallout 4 or any of its associated characters.

 **Warnings:** gore, mentions of cannibalism and forced cannibalism;

* * *

 **The General**

 _"The one good thing about being the last Minuteman is there's no one to argue with me when I say you're the new General."_ Preston Garvey

 **~oOo~**

Nora accepts the request like she always does, with a nod and a smile, promising to do her best to arrive there in time. It's a week long journey to Hangman's Alley if the weather holds. It almost never does. In this instance, it suits her well.

She takes the southern road out of town and keeps to it until she's out of sight of both Sanctuary and the Red Rocket Truck Shop. Then, turning north-east, she cuts a path through the forest. With Dogmeat trotting alongside her, she marches through the night, steady and quiet, and is within sight of Outpost Zimonja within a day and a half.

The settlers welcome the General with stories and friendly smiles and eagerly agree to let her cook the night's meal when Nora promises to show them an old recipe from before the war.

Oh, they eat everything with relish, praise her cooking and ask for seconds and thirds. The woman smiles, waves off their thanks and waits for nightfall.

By morning, two cooling corpses lay in their beds. Methodically, Nora sets about undressing them, storing the belongings in a nearby chest.

Then, with her switchblade, she dresses the settlers' flesh, gutting them with swift, practiced movements. So much easier to carve into than brahmin, comes an idle thought.

The intestines, stomach and bladder go first; the meat's poisoned already but there's no need to make a mess.

(She's growing immune to the oleander toxins but even she won't eat the meat if she has to wash crap off it. This is about revenge - and spite - not gnawing hunger.

Ungrateful, self-centered wretches. None of them even care about her mission to rescue _her_ little boy. All of _their_ troubles are infinitely more urgent.

 _Build me a bed. It's not where I wanted it! Save my brahmin. Why is its fur singed? Return my locket. You broke the clasp, it was an antique! We need more water, food, entertainment... More... More..._ )

Wrist deep in the old man's guts, Nora slowly, carefully removes the kidneys and liver before deeming it far too early in the day to start sawing off rib cages and giving up on the hearts.

After that, it's only a matter of skinning the settlers and cutting off choice pieces.

The innards, skin, legs, arms and heads she buries near the firepit. The rest she carefully stores in her heavy duty backpack. Swiftly, she dismantles the recruitment radio beacon, hefts her pack and starts for Tenpines Bluff.

* * *

Here too the General arrives with a ready smile, a pack full of 'venison' and a promise of exotic dishes. Here too, come morning, three corpses await harvesting. At noon, nothing's left of the settlers but a trunk full of old weapons and worn, dirty clothes.

After a quick but hearty lunch of liver in tato sauce - with a femur for Dogmeat to gnaw on - the recruitment beacon is dismantled and the southwards trek resumes.

* * *

Considering all the detours, she makes good time to Hangman's Alley, arriving in time to help fight off the raiders that have been plaguing her people. She sticks around for three days after that, tinkering round the place and sleeping off a fortnight's worth of fatigue.

Then, it's back north, to Sanctuary.

* * *

 **~oOo~**

* * *

It makes Preston happy, to see all that the General's done for the people. How she takes the time to help out everyone who asks. Miss Blake's almost single-handedly rebuilt the Minutemen and breathed life back into the Commonwealth countryside.

Most settlements can stand on their own two feet now. For the past five months, they've rarely gotten calls for help. It's heartening, to observe the effect of the General's small acts of kindness. Both generous and compassionate, she's truly an inspiration to them all.

If only he wouldn't feel so tongue-tied around her. If he could just talk to her without sounding like a young fool; he doesn't even know where to look. He can't hold her gaze because of those dark sunglasses she wears day in, day out - oh, if he could see her eyes when she smiles...

The General's got such a kind, beautiful smile.

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm just excising some demons. I **loathe** the Minutemen Radiant Quests.


End file.
